


Worth It- A Bofur Fanfic

by cidinsael



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 03:26:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9158110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cidinsael/pseuds/cidinsael
Summary: Essie Wittem is a beautiful hobbit girl, hired as a burglar for the company of Thorin Oakenshield. She begins to fall for the dwarf in the funny hat, and things heat up in Rivendell at The Last Homely House... (A Bofur smut one-shot)





	

The night was cold for mid-May, and the wind from Bree to the west carried with it the scent often encountered on a cool summer night.

The company of Thorin Oakenshield were camped between the area of Trollshaws and the feet of the Misty Mountains, along the road to the elves at Rivendell. By Gandalf's estimation, Rivendell was less than a full day's trek eastward, though the company, being in want of food, were not inclined to venture any further on this day, especially as sleep was the only sustenance they had after their encounter with the trolls.

Essie Wittem, a singularly intelligent and gifted hobbit and appointed burglar of the company, lay in a shallow trough carved by wind or running water into a small stone formation at the north end of the campsite. Beneath her head was rolled her woolen cloak and her small leather pack- she, being the smallest and least threatening, was able to retain her possessions without much interference by the trolls. Some of the dwarves were so disgusted at the troll-smell rising from their blankets, they had decided to leave them behind.

Though Essie generally had little trouble sleeping, this night was unusual in her restlessness. She was not often appointed to keep watch, so she had no reason to remain awake, but there she lay nonetheless.

Bofur was taking watch this night, looking out to the south. Essie watched him across the dying embers of the fire, almost absentmindedly. He seemed unbothered by the cool wind, lightly humming a tuneless song under his breath. He was not the most effective watchman, as he often grew distracted, but being so close to Rivendell and in elven territory meant that the best lookouts were able to get some sleep.

Essie shivered against the cold stone of her bed, and sat up to unroll her blanket and wrap it tightly around herself. She was not noiseless in this, and the small noise prompted Bofur to turn around and looked at her.

"Lass!" He whispered through the dark.

Essie perked her head up and met his eyes apologetically. Causing any sort of commotion is, as I'm sure you know, unusual for even the most Tookish of hobbits.

"Sorry!" She whispered back. "I'm trying to keep warm and I can't sleep." Despite her forceful whisper, the rest of the company lay undisturbed between herself and Bofur, sleeping deeply and without snoring (an unusual feat for dwarves).

"Well come join me then!" laughed Bofur, beckoning her over with one of his delightful smiles.

Essie gladly accepted his invitation- Bofur was at once the most and least hobbit-like of all the dwarves, loving comfort, but also ill-mannered enough that to her, he became amusing beyond his penchant for naughty jokes. She had of late found herself looking at him more, for he always smiled, even in times of trouble, and something about the image of this dimpled dwarf in his silly hat and lovely hair made her hands shake and her voice catch.

Essie rolled out of the little groove in the rock, clutching her pack and blanket, and gathering her wide skirt close about her legs as she stepped over the other dwarves, talking caution to not step over their heads, lest they awake beneath her skirt.

Bofur watched her with an impish grin, guessing at the reason for her awkward movements. "Lass, believe me, nobody here gives a mole's toe for modesty- you'll exhaust yourself trying to remain a lady," he chuckled.

"Well I'm just being cautious," she said lightly as she came to his side, an entirely un-hobbitlike flush creeping its way up from her collarbone.

Bofur smirked playfully, but let the subject drop. He spoke in what can only be called a whisper, though dwarves have a third register to their voices which you or I do not, a low, clear rumble intended to prevent echoes of private conversations in the great caves of yore. "Can't sleep? I envy you that. I've been in want of someone to help me stay awake tonight."

"Well I guess I'm your hobbit then!" She sighed, "although I don't suppose there's much longer until sunrise, and Gandalf wanted us to move at dawn. I myself am more than ready to join the elves and get some decent food, though I know you and your kin aren't all too fond of them."

"Fond? Essie my dear we despise elves," Bofur smiled, "but when a wizard says to meet with them, even dwarves would do well to heed that." He looked at her upturned face with a strange expression, almost tender, but still veiled by humor. "Are you still cold?" He had noticed her clutching her blanket around her shoulders and tucking her large feet beneath the fabric of her skirt.

"A bit," she shrugged, "but there's nothing that can be done."

Bofur wagged his head, causing the flaps of his hat to dance merrily. "Don't underestimate my gentlemanly side," he teased, unbuckling the massive belt about his waist and shrugging out of his thick yellow coat.

He swung it about her shoulders gently, and at once she began to feel drowsy, whether from the delightful warmth and weight of the coat or the intoxicating smell it carried, she could not tell. It smelled of him, of wood in all its forms, smoke, earth, and something manly and not at all like a hobbit, which was the most intoxicating thing of all.

Noticing her drooping eyelids and instant relaxation, Bofur began to laugh, eyes twinkling with starlight, though the night was cloudy. "Perhaps I should have let you shiver so you'd stay awake and talk to me, lass!"

Essie met his eyes, smiling apologetically. "I didn't realize how cold I was until this moment," she said, her last words broken by the massive yawn of a very sleepy hobbit.

Bofur looked at her as she rubbed her eyes, seeing not for the first time just how sweet the little hobbit was. He wrapped his large, muscled arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side. She did not turn away, but let herself be gathered up like a doll, resting her head on his upper chest as he leaned against a rock behind them.

"Sleep, my lass." He sighed tenderly.

Essie allowed herself to fall into him, but she did not sleep immediately. She shut her eyes and evened out her breathing to give the illusion of sleep, but instead lay still and felt Bofur's heart race beneath her temple. This in turn made her own heart race in the most wonderful, aching way. She pretended to sleep though she still could not, but she dared not stir, lest she make Bofur aware of her ruse. She thought about shifting, but her thoughts were broken by the feeling of a hand in her hair, a gentle, calloused hand, softly brushing through her short-cropped curls, tucking them behind her pointed ears. Her heartbeat quickened, and she became thankful for Bofur's coat that he could not feel its frantic rhythm. She struggled to keep her breath even and remain still, though she wanted nothing more than to pull herself up and reciprocate his tenderness. His hand pulled away at last, resting lightly on her knee. She began to relax again, until she felt a soft new pressure at the crown of her head and his warm breath among her curls. His moustache tickled her forehead, and she couldn't help but shift her body, too delighted by the sensations to remain acting.

As Bofur felt her shift against him, he drew his lips away from her head, cursing himself for getting carried away. He had no time to whisper an apology before Essie had turned and met his lips, drawing herself in close, one hand on his chest, the other wandering between them, clutching at his belt loops, and feeling over his muscled abdomen.

Essie had not thought twice about leaning up to kiss the dwarf, and smiled internally when, despite the initial shock, he returned all of her affections. Their tongues met hungrily as they sank deeper into each other. She turned to straddle his leg which was thrust out before him, as she braced herself with both hands on his sturdy chest. His own hands wandered beneath his jacket which she still wore, gripping her waist and hips as she drew herself onto her knees, pressing her own body into his.

He began to pull at her voluminous skirt, untangling it from her legs. As soon as she realized what he was attempting to do, she drew back, sitting but still straddling his left leg.

"Bofur no- not here" she whispered sadly.

"Oh lass," he groaned, and she looked down to see that it was not simply his heart which was ready to meet her.

"I'm sorry- I can't do this when someone might wake up."

He nodded solemnly, though her eagerness had left him in an unfortunate position. She removed herself from his leg, and he shuddered as a strange new wave of pleasure washed over him, seeing that the thigh of his trousers was warm and wet where she had been.

"Oh lass," he groaned again, and Essie blushed as she saw what had captured his attention in that moment.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "I suppose I didn't really want to stop either." Hesitating, she continued, "perhaps we might pick this back up in Rivendell? I'm sure we'll be given bedchambers."

Bofur nodded, entirely distracted by his lower half, though he relished the idea of taking Essie and ruining an elf's bedchamber at the same time.

Satisfied as she could be in the situation, Essie nestled back into Bofur's side and fell asleep, being awoken only a few hours later at dawn by the noise of the first dwarves waking. Bofur was still awake, though his trousers were distinctly rumpled, and Essie wondered hungrily if he had done anything for himself after she fell asleep.

She rose, and he stood beside her to stretch. As she stood, she realized that she still wore his coat, the hem just brushing the fine hair on her feet, and the sleeves comically long. The dwarves around the fire looked at her confusedly, though Fili met her eyes and gave her a knowing look. She quickly slipped out of the massive coat and hoisted it up to hand to Bofur, blushing when she realized that he too had met Fili's gaze, and was waggling his eyebrows with a massive grin across his face. The rest of the company save Gandalf began to roar with laughter, and Essie tried to hide, though she knew it was in vain.

Fili was roaring with the rest of them, but broke off and shouted for quiet. "Gentlemen!" He cried, "it seems our burglar has stolen a heart from among us!" More roars of laughter, and Essie blushed even deeper, wishing she were invisible.

"But it also seems, from what I heard last night, that our esteemed Miss Wittem burgled the house, stoked the fire, and left without dousing it!" This met the greatest roar of laughter yet, which Essie felt entirely compelled to join, if only for the sake of Fili's impressive analogy. As the blush left her face and various dwarves came to clap her on the back, she looked at Bofur, who though he laughed with her, had turned bright red, and glared at her with a look somewhere between threatening and playfully seductive.

Fili came over to her to whisper in her ear, "Mahal's sake, Essie, douse it tonight, otherwise it's just cruel." She nodded, speechless as she felt herself blushing again.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, with only the occasional remark regarding Bofur and Essie's escapades, which grew more tedious as the day wore on. The company reached Rivendell in the late afternoon, met by a warm welcome from the elves there. There they had a feast, which Bofur lent a dwarvish air to as he sang and stomped along the long tables, to the amusement of the company and the dismay of the elves. Essie watched him closely all day, eyeing him hungrily, meeting his eyes occasionally as if to remind him telepathically of what awaited him that night.

Finally the company were given rooms. One room held six dwarves and the other seven, though Essie and Gandalf were given their own rooms out of propriety. Bofur found himself in the room of seven, altogether disappointed that Essie could clearly not come to him there. His roommates saw this immediately and gave him no mercy, teasing him and asking him exactly which type of sapphire his balls resembled. Fili, ever helpful, also happened to be in this room, and had paid attention to the layout of the house, as well as the location of Essie's room. He took Bofur aside to inform him of this; information which Bofur met with much gratitude. Bofur decided it would be no use to try to sneak out without being seen, so he left amongst the hoots and well-wishes of his kin, as well as a few raunchy warnings to "not break our burglar."

Essie heard the commotion down the hall and her heart began to race, knowing exactly what the noise indicated. She looked about the bedchamber and realized just how perfect it was for her purposes. It was open to the outside, overlooking the valley and many cascades of Rivendell. Sheer white curtains served as the outer wall if desired, and she was sure there was some sort of magic upon them to allow for privacy. The room itself had a high ceiling, arched into a pointed vault, glittering with inlaid glass. The bed was massive even by elf standards, though low enough to not be a problem for a hobbit. It was as soft as a cloud with a coverlet of some kind of fur unknown in the Shire, but soft and luscious, and neither too thick and hot nor too thin and cold.

Essie had washed herself and her clothes as well as possible in the short time she had, and was smoothing her dress when she heard Bofur knocking lightly on the surprisingly light solid oak door.

She bounced over to the door and opened it only wide enough to see his face. "How forward of you, coming to a woman's door!" She said in mock surprise.

A grin crossed Bofur's face and her knees grew weak as his dimples presented themselves. "Aye, lass, but after last night forward and up are the only directions I care about!" He chuckled, and Essie laughed heartily, opening the door and locking it once he was in the room.

"I s'pose these elves aren't half-bad, considerin' they at least let a lady have her own room. Though it's a little flowery for my taste." He said this as he approached Essie, drawing near enough that she could smell the wonderful scent of his coat, again weakening her knees.

He saw her change her expression to one of pleasure, and took the opportunity to grab her waist and lift her so that their eyes were level and her back was against one of the ornately-carved stone walls.

She wrapped her short legs around his waist, as far as they could go considering his stocky build, and kissed him passionately. He leaned in and pressed her harder into the wall, their tongues searching for some unknown treasure inside each other's mouths.

Bofur broke away, breathing heavily, keeping eye contact with Essie. "My dear, you really are exquisite," he sighed, and she felt his rough hands moving up the outside of her thighs. She secretly congratulated herself for wearing her pantalettes, which although unnecessary, frustrated Bofur when he found her thighs encased in even more fabric. "You little imp, you're determined to tease me 'til I burst, aren't you?" he laughed, Essie joining him with a high giggle as he drew away from the wall and toward the bed.

"Oh, I'm determined to see you burst at least," she replied in a low voice, leaning forward to speak directly into his ear.

This was met with a guttural growl that rippled through his body as his pants grew tighter against her. He threw her bodily onto the massive bed, and she lay there grinning at him, pleased at the way her skirt fell around her in disarray. The one thing about the pantalettes she wore was that they were made in the old style, two tubes of fabric connected by a thin belt- that is to say, they left her most crucial area open to the air. This secret she considered as he stood over her, removing his jacket and throwing it with a heavy sound toward the head of the bed. As he removed his shirt, her breath caught, and she decided to keep her secret a bit longer.

His chest was broad and heavily muscled, covered in a mass of thick brown hair like she had never seen. Hobbit men are all well and good when that is all one has ever seen, but dwarf men are entirely different, and altogether more manly than even the strongest of hobbits. His sinewy arms caught her up again and she breathed his wonderful scent, her head buried in his chest.

She drew away and unbuttoned her shirt as his hungry gaze swept over her breasts emerging from above her short corset. She turned around and shuddered as his rough hands traced her bare shoulders and down her back to unlace her stays. As soon as he was done (which, with dwarf hands, takes a while on hobbit-made clothing), she thrust off the undergarment and turned to meet his gaze. Of course, his gaze was not on her eyes at this point, but a little farther south, as her breasts had been freed from their prison. Anyone who has seen a hobbit-made corset knows the fashion in which they compress the bosom, hiding any true size that may lie within. This was no exception, and Bofur groaned at the size of the breasts which had been hidden behind the corset.

A breeze rippled through the white curtains on the other side of the room, causing Essie to shiver and her nipples to stand erect.

Bofur leaned forward and placed his lips at the hollow of her throat, hands on her back at the waist of her skirt. His lips and tongue worked their way down as his hands moved around front, and Essie was moaning softly by the time he began to nibble and knead her breasts.

"B-Bofur..." she sighed, trying to make it clear she was asking a question.

"Yes lass?" His voice was deep and his eyes were dark as he looked up at her.

"It's not that I don't enjoy this, but I think there are other things I'd enjoy more," she managed to say, collecting her wits.

Bofur did not appear the least bit disappointed, and he reached to remove his hat as he continued to undress.

"Wait!" Essie said suddenly, then her tone grew to a purr, "leave the hat on..."

Bofur laughed a great booming laugh that turned to chimes as it echoed off the ceiling of the room. "You only like me for my hat, lass? Would you rather make love to my hat?"

Essie joined him in laughing, and gently pulled his braids so their noses were nearly touching. "Oh I like the hat," she replied, "and my dear Bofur, you're not you without your hat."

Bofur grinned, all dimples and teeth, and pulled his hat down tightly over his ears. "Then we shall see what wonderful times can be had by all with this hat before the night is through."

The glint in his eyes as he said this made Essie shiver with delight. This he saw and moved around the bed, so that he sat facing the proper direction. Essie crawled over to him and straddled his hips, lightly shifting to tease him just a little bit. It worked, as a low growl escaped him and the lump in his pants by some miracle continued to grow.

Essie quickly moved back off his lap and looked down at it pointedly- her positioning had the desired effect. A damp spot had been left directly on top of his erection, and as he followed her gaze down, he only had to glance at it to know his next move. He caught her about the waist and pulled her back onto his lap, into the same position. He reached up her skirt with both hands, slowly running his hands along her pantalettes, as she threw her arms about his neck and placed her forehead against his. His hands worked their way around to the back, where he expected to find laces, but was instead met with bare skin.

She opened her eyes to look at his, full of lust and confusion. "Surprise," she purred, bucking her hips on his lap.

He growled again, his rough hands clutching her bottom, and again as he found that her entire crotch was exposed.

He quickly drew his hands around to her front, and she felt a surge of liquid heat between her legs as his fingers began to work- the fingers of a craftsman. He rubbed her gently but deliberately, delighting as she arched her back and rocked against his fingers.

He slowly worked his index finger inside of her as his other hand continued its expert navigation of her clitoris.

She gasped in pleasure, emitting a very undignified moan that sounded a good deal like Bofur's own name. He smiled and paused as he drew her face down to kiss her. They sat there kissing passionately as he explored between her legs. Her moans became frantic and he savored the way she moaned into his mouth.

She suddenly pulled away from his mouth and let out a cry as fireworks exploded from beneath his fingers. Bofur growled once again as her orgasm clamped with a pulsing rhythm around his thick finger.

"Oh lass..." he moaned, his voice two octaves lower than usual. "That's not your last one tonight. I suppose I ought to teach you how not to leave someone high and dry," he laughed.

Essie, breathless, had collapsed against his shoulder and simply nodded with a weak moan.

Bofur picked her up off of him and laid her down on the bed on her back as she caught her breath. The fur on the bed was unbelievably soft against her bare back, and she sighed in pleasure and comfort as Bofur lay down next to her and pulled her close.

"Essie, lass, I'm not finished with you yet, so don't get too comfortable," he smirked. "I am certainly ready for my own release but I'm kind enough and enough of a gentleman to ensure that you will be satisfied at least twice as much as me."

Essie snorted, having fully recovered from her ecstasy. "Oh aren't you the martyr. Why don't you tell me what you did after I fell asleep last night?"

Bofur groaned and blushed. "Well considering you brought it up, I'd venture to guess you already know. I couldn't very well get rid of that blasted thing any other way with you all tucked against me. I didn't think I woke you."

"You didn't." She replied with a grin, "I wasn't even sure, but now you've confirmed my suspicions."

"You saucy minx!" He cried, rolling over onto her. He leaned in close, pressing himself against her breasts, letting her feel his throbbing erection through her skirt. He lowered his voice to a mere rumble and breathed into her neck. "That was your fault after all, and I, being a gentleman, would not dare to wish the same pain upon you, so I am going to ensure you receive your share of pleasure. You will be screaming my name, and I want the rest of the company to hear and know that I am a decent person who would not let my lady go unsatisfied."

Essie groaned and arched her back, thrusting her hips upwards into his.

"Oh no lass- not yet," he laughed, sliding down so his face was level with her hips. He found the clasp that held her skirt together and undid it. He pulled the mass of fabric off her and threw it on the floor where his boots had ended up. He saw the pantalettes and the belt tied about her waist, laughed and removed them before she had time to help.

"How old-fashioned of you," he chuckled, "though I can't say I don't appreciate your judgement. You really do know how to get a man worked up."

With that, he buried his face between her legs, licking and sucking, working steadily as if his tongue were the very mattock he used in mining and fighting.

His hat did serve the strange and wonderful purpose of caressing her thighs as his head moved, the soft sheepskin providing an unusual sensation that gave her goosebumps all down her legs and sent tingles through her body.

Essie felt as if her core were flowing with lava, molten liquid coursing through her, finding an escape only to be met by Bofur's mouth. His moustache tickled her and made her gasp amid the moans she involuntarily emitted. It didn't take much for her to meet her release- Bofur was deliberate and instinctive, and responded to every movement she made with a new and delightful wave of pleasure. His tongue was plunged inside her, his fingers on her clitoris. She felt again the fireworks exploding between her legs, and as she climaxed, a loud and high moan escaped her lips, carrying Bofur's name up to the high-vaulted ceiling, and trailing off into a purring sigh.

"Ah, lass..." he whispered, as her orgasm faded and he withdrew his mouth. He crawled up and met her lips so she could taste herself.

He determined that he enjoyed the taste of hobbit women much more than dwarf women, of whom he had only had a few. Essie was the first hobbit Bofur had ever met, let alone made love to, and he was pleased with himself as he watched her attempting to recover from her violent orgasm.

Essie had never made love to anyone, hobbit or otherwise, and was still in awe of the pleasure that Bofur had twice bestowed upon her relatively small frame. She propped herself up on her elbow and looked at him meaningfully, then down at his trousers, which were straining against his massive size.

Bofur chuckled and slid off the bed, still facing her. "Yes Essie my lass, I think I've earned my own pleasure, don't you think?"

"Undoubtedly," she breathed, drawing the fur coverlet around her, as she slid forward to sit in front of him on the edge of the bed. Sitting down, she found herself at eye-level with his groin.

She unlaced the front of his trousers as Bofur ran his fingers through her hair, gazing down at her lovingly.

She hooked her fingers in his belt loops and pulled his trousers down. His erection finally sprang free and he let out a hiss of contentment.

Essie gasped at the sight of his girth, which she felt sure would never fit inside of her. She sat breathless as Bofur stepped out of his trousers. She watched him, her dwarf, fully erect and impressively hairy, with lusty fascination. Sensing that there was nothing to be said about the matter, she reached forward to wrap her hand around him, though her dainty hobbit fingers could hardly reach around his girth.

He shuddered at her touch, and grabbed her wrist with a swift motion. "No lass, I don't have the stamina for that," he said, his eyes twinkling. Essie grinned back at him as he loomed over her, his length almost in her face.

He laughed as he jumped over her onto the bed, shaking the frame so violently Essie was afraid they'd have to pay Lord Elrond for the damage.

She turned to look at him and found him smiling seductively, dimples deeper than ever, his hat crooked, as he lay on his side, manhood on full display.

"Oh now you're gonna be shy, are ye?" He guffawed, indicating the mass of fur that enveloped her. "Lassie, I need you bodily."

With that, he rose from his lounging position and took her effortlessly in his arms, fur and all. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation of pure vulnerability, opening them when she felt herself placed on her back on the bed. She lay with her head on a pile of downy pillows, the fur still clutched around her shoulders.

She realized how advantageous and seductive her position was, and flung her arms wide, exposing her breasts and arching her back. Bofur, who was on his knees to her right, growled hungrily.

She slowly separated her legs, only enough to allow Bofur to straddle her right thigh. This he did, leaning down to kiss her, gripping her neck with his free hand.

She broke away and sunk her body into the bed, separating her knees as far as she could.

He felt her move, and did not break eye contact as he positioned himself between her legs. The tip of his erection brushed against her still-sensitive clitoris, and she drew in her breath sharply at the unexpected sensation.

Bofur eased slowly into her, marveling at how wet she was and how easily he fit within her.

Essie bit her lip, half-expecting pain, though no pain presented itself. Instead, she only felt Bofur, every inch of him, within and against her body. As his body shifted, she felt him move inside of her- she was acutely aware of how wonderfully close they were in that moment.

Bofur shuddered as he sunk into her, and drew himself down low so he could kiss her. He felt her moan into his mouth, and slowly began thrusting as he rose up on his forearms.

Essie met this sensation gladly, twining her legs around his, and reaching up to place her hand on his face. She pressed her thumb into his dimple as he smiled and gently ran her fingers through his hair, caressing his braids.

Bofur, having waited as long as he had, knew his own climax would not take long, but he concentrated on Essie's expression to indicate when he was hitting her just right. Suddenly her eyes opened wide and a small squeak escaped her lips. Bofur laughed and continued his motion as she began to once again moan his name. He found himself on the edge of his own orgasm as her voice began to rise in pitch and volume, but willed himself not to finish until she had (this willing almost certainly involved mental images of trolls). Her voice rose until she arched her back and let out one final scream of "BOFUR" that tinkled off the ceiling and escaped the room into the gully below. As her scream still echoed, Bofur gazed into her liquid-emerald eyes and gave a few last animalistic thrusts, releasing himself inside her as he let out one final growl that carried her name to follow his own.

He fell lightly on top of her, still buried deep between her legs, and gripped her waist to pull her with him as he rolled onto his side.

They kissed deeply and lovingly, occasionally breaking apart to gaze into each other's eyes, each marveling at their luck for landing such exceptional company.

He pulled himself out of her, both of them dripping with their mixed fluids. He wondered briefly how they might handle a pregnant burglar, but remembered that biologically, between hobbits and dwarves, it was unlikely.

As Essie lay on her back, Bofur took the fur coverlet and enveloped them both from head to toe, their naked bodies pressed tightly against each other as a breeze drifted through the window and ruffled Essie's already disheveled hair.

Bofur leaned in and placed his lips on her forehead. "Essie?" He whispered.

"Yes, Bofur?"

"I love you, lass."

"I love you too, my dwarf."

They laughed as they kissed and studied each other's faces as if to desperately memorize every line.

She buried her face into his neck, arms tight around his waist, and there she slept, as he slept with the small hobbit form molded into his body.

They awoke in the morning having barely stirred, but awoke at the same time, greeting each other with a passionate kiss.

They heard the dwarves in the room next door laughing and preparing for the day, so they reluctantly rose to dress.

Essie, still naked, walked over to the open window and stood there in the morning breeze, feeling Bofur's gaze following her behind. She turned around and posed against the railing that created the bottom of the window, teasing him.

"Oh lass," he laughed as he pulled on his trousers, "I wish we could."

"No, Bofur," she replied with a laugh to echo his. "I'm just showing you what you're going to be spending many more nights studying before this journey is over."

They both laughed, half in amusement, half in lusty anticipation.

Essie sat on the edge of the bed and watched Bofur dress, studying the movement of his heavily-muscled body. He finally stood before her fully clothed, and she reluctantly rose to collect her own clothes. Bofur protested against the principle of undergarments as she asked him to help her with her corset, so to humor him, she left it and what he called "those blasted pants" in a small wardrobe that stood in one corner of the room.

He eyed her body with dark eyes as she put the rest of her clothes back on, especially pleased at the way her shirt buttons strained without her corset.

When she was dressed, he picked her up and spun her in his arms as she giggled at the way his moustache tickled her forehead.

He set her down and they left the room together, not expecting the wall of dwarves they met when they entered the hallway.

Before they could register what was happening, the roars of a dozen barrel-chested dwarves crashed into them. Bofur received numerous chuckled congratulations, and Essie met with the sly smiles and knowing glances of twelve pairs of eyes. She colored deeply, realizing just how much they must have heard the night before.

She made eye contact with Bofur and he looked apologetic, though he was smiling broadly, and she moved to cross her arms across her relatively exposed chest.

She realized, as she heard voices pitched two octaves too high whining "Oh Bofur!" that this would be her lot if she were to continue with Bofur. But as she glanced over to him once more, at his handsome face and magical hands and marvelous hat, she decided that nothing could be more worth it.


End file.
